


Contentment

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy Taking Care of Phil, Discworld References, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Flash Fic, Future Fic, Kissing, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Romantic Fluff, The People's Revolution of the Glorious Twenty-Fifth of May
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 16:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6965512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a post-Civil War future, Phil and Daisy find contentment with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contentment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> Today's the 'Glorious 25th of May', a date of considerable significance to Discworld fans, and I wanted to pay my own tribute. 
> 
> Daisy reads a short section of the late Terry Pratchett's _Night Watch_.

It's been a long and tiresome day of seemingly endless meetings with policy makers in DC, and all Phil Coulson wants to do is peel out of his suit, shower, and grab a drink, possibly a big glass of wine.

He is, of course, extremely glad that the Sokovia Accords have been put aside, and that Inhumans are being granted the same rights as everyone else, but there are times when he really wishes he wasn't the man trying to persuade politicians and civil servants that the vast majority of Inhumans just want to get on with their regular lives, the same as everyone else.

He parks Lola, climbs out, and then takes a moment to stretch properly. He pops Lola's trunk and lifts out his overnight bag, then heads through the hanger and into the base proper. The hallways are quiet, and he registers that it's later than he'd realised. He pulls the knot of his tie loose, and unfastens the top button of his shirt, then pushes the door to his quarters open, only to stop dead on the threshold at the sight of the figure curled in his armchair.

"Daisy?" His voice is quiet, but still conveys his surprise and disbelief at the sight of her.

"Hey Phil." She puts aside the book she's reading, and it intrigues him to see it is an actual book, not her tablet.

"I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow at the earliest," he says, stepping inside his room and setting down his bag as she uncurls herself from the chair and comes towards him. She's dressed in sweatpants and an oversize sweater – the sort of thing she usually wears in bed, and her cropped hair (shorter now than it's ever been) is tousled.

"I was able to get an earlier flight back," she says softly, stepping into his personal space.

"I'm so glad," he says fervently.

"Me too." She slips her arms around him and gives him an expectant look, one eyebrow raised as if to ask _Why aren't you kissing me yet?_

He smirks, then wraps his arms around her and pulls her body tight against his before nipping at her bottom lip. When she moans he slips his tongue into her mouth and kisses her, stroking his tongue across the roof of her mouth.

"Phil." She moans his name, and the sound goes straight to his cock, which makes him slide his left hand down to cup her ass, pressing her body even closer.

"You're exhausted," she observes, pulling back and making him whine pathetically.

He doesn't bother asking her how she knows – he's got used to her 'reading' his vibrations.

"I am a bit tired," he agrees, because there's no point denying it.

"Then we'll save this for later," she says, and he pouts, because he's sure hot sex with his young lover will make him feel better. 

"Daisy, I'm sure – " 

"No, Phil," she says, cutting him off before he can get going. "Shower and sleep first, sex later."

"You're a harsh taskmaster," he complains, even though he was thinking of a shower before he knew Daisy had returned from her trip to Europe.

"You'll thank me for it later, Phil, I promise."

"Okay, okay." He lets her begin undressing him, and feels himself relaxing as Daisy presses soft little kisses to his shoulders, and chest, then his knees and ankles. He doesn't think anyone's ever kissed his ankles before – or his knees, even, but he doesn't question it – it's Daisy.

Once he's down to his boxers, she leads him, his left hand clasped in her right, into his ensuite, and after stripping off his boxers as well, he steps into the shower.

"When did you last eat?" she asks.

"I had a sandwich about 2," he tells her, and she shakes her head. 

"Shower," she tells him, "and I'll find you some food."

He salutes her and she scowls, or pretends to, then blows him a kiss before walking away, and he turns on the shower, then grabs the bottle of shower gel and proceeds to lather up.

When he steps back out of the bathroom about 20 minutes later, wrapped in a towel and rubbing his hair dry, Daisy's waiting for him: she's curled in the chair again, with her book, but there's a tray on the desk in the corner, and he can smell something good.

"Hey," she says as he walks over to the chair.

"Thank you," he says, and leans down to kiss her, soft and slow.

"Just returning the favour," she says, smiling up at him.

"What are you reading?"

"Terry Pratchett's _Night Watch_ ," she says. 

He frowns, unfamiliar with the author's name. "I assume it's good?"

She nods, and as he finishes drying himself off, then pulls on sweatpants and a t-shirt before sitting down to eat, she begins talking enthusiastically about the book. It's set on a fantasy world, Discworld, she tells him, and features the equivalent of a hard-bitten cop called Sam Vimes, who gets involved in a time-travel incident that sends him back to his own youth when a 'glorious revolution' to overthrow a barking mad dictator is about to take place. 

He listens, not entirely sure he's following the plot, because his exhaustion is seriously catching up with him at this point, but it doesn't matter – he just loves listening to Daisy's voice, and always has – ever since he heard her podcasts, back when they were trying to track down Mike Peterson.

Between Daisy's soothing tones, and the warmth of the soup that she'd brought for him, he can feel sleep stealing up on him, and he's a bit startled when she puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes it.

"C'mon Phil, into bed with you before you plant your face in your soup bowl."

He hums agreement, and lets her guide him across the room and into bed. "Read to me?" he asks softly as he settles against his pillows.

"If you like," she says, smiling, and grabs her book, then climbs onto the bed beside him. He's slightly amused when she slips her arm around his shoulders, encouraging him to rest his head on her shoulder – usually this position is one that she adopts, but he can't say he minds the reversal. He snuggles up closer, wrapping his left arm across her middle, and sighs softly when she combs her fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp for a moment, before opening her book.

" _There were plotters, there was no doubt about it. Some had been ordinary people who'd had enough. Some were young people with no money who objected to the fact that the world was run by old people who were rich. Some were in it to get girls. And some had been idiots as mad as Swing –_ He's the tyrannical Patrician," Daisy tells him, interrupting herself to elaborate. Coulson murmurs his understanding, and she continues reading: " _with a view of the world just as rigid and unreal, who were on the side of what they called 'the people'. Vimes had spent his life on the streets, and had met decent men and fools and people who'd steal a penny from a blind beggar and people who performed silent miracles or desperate crimes every day behind the grubby windows of little houses, but he'd never met The People._ "

" _People on the side of The People always ended up disappointed, in any case. They found that The People tended not to be grateful or appreciative or forward-thinking or obedient. The People tended to be small-minded and conservative and not very clever and were even distrustful of cleverness. And so the children of the revolution were faced with the age-old problem: it wasn't that you had the wrong kind of government, which was obvious, but that you had the wrong kind of people._ "

" _As soon as you saw people as things to be measured, they didn't measure up. What would run through the streets soon enough wouldn't be a revolution or a riot. It'd be people who were frightened and panicking. It was what happened when the machinery of city life faltered, the wheels stopped turning and all the little rules broke down. And when that happened, humans were worse than sheep. Sheep just ran; they didn't try to bite the sheep next to them._ "

Coulson chuckles softly, and feels himself sliding into sleep as Daisy continues to read. He feels cosy and comfortable, and even better, he feels content. It's a good feeling, he thinks muzzily, and he knows that he's lucky that Daisy had come through being Swayed by Hive, and then through being a 'rogue Inhuman', a vigilante doing her best for her people despite a government that thought the worst of people who were different. He's even luckier that she had not only survived, but had returned to SHIELD wanting to be with him. That had been an unexpected gift, and he is grateful every day for her presence in his life. He isn't sure he deserves her love, but he does his best, every day, to be worthy of it, and of her because there's no doubt in his mind that she's the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Just before sleep claims him completely he feels her pressing a kiss to his forehead, and he falls asleep with a contented smile on his face.


End file.
